A Taxi Ride (Living with Greater Boldness)
I peer into the taxi. I was hoping to take the bus this morning but I’d never get there in time for w-ship at our friends’ home. The kids pile into the back of the car. I exchange greetings and directions with the driver. Father, will you direct this conversation? I need you.
The usual exchange dominates most of the first half of the car ride. 3 kids? All yours? You must make tons of money! How much does your husband make? (I am certainly not going to add that I have one more son who’s not with us this morning.) Where are you from? (I brace myself as usually the next half of the drive is about my sucky Chinese and how I should have learned better.) But we don’t go there this morning. Thankful. I don’t mince words. I’m going to ch-rch this morning with my kids. I’m a follower of J-sus. Have you ever heard of J-sus? Time’s running out and I may never see this man again. I share with him a little of my faith. His silence tempts me to be quiet. I believe in Pusa, he protects me. I choose to pr-y. I finish the car ride interceding for this man and his family. I speak to the kids in English, pr-y for this man, for his heart, for his family.
After all, life’s too short.
A sober reminder has brought a new desire to be bolder in expressing my faith. I ran into a former neighbor yesterday morning. She and her husband had been very dear to us in our early years in this apartment complex. We got to know them after Elijah was born and their grand-daughter was born soon after. We had their family over many times; we made jiaozi (dumplings) and spaghetti. (my spaghetti pales in comparison to their jiaozi) Mr. Wang, her husband passed away while we were away. I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Wang’s smile and encouragement has been sweet to us over the years. He’d see me carrying a load of groceries home from the market and he’d tell me what a good mom I was. When I was outside throwing ball with the kids he’d come out with his pruning shears and we’d chat about plants, children, and life. He was tickled over the way my kids enjoyed food, namely, Micah. Micah really enjoyed his 1000 year old egg dipped in dark vinegar the last time we were in their home. We’d shared the g-spel with him and had read some parts of the Book with him. Now he’s gone. I don’t know if he ever professed faith in J-sus. My heart breaks. I wish I had been more faithful . There are words I wish I had shared with him this past year. I thought he’d be around longer. Only in his late 60’s. I thought there would be more opportunities but they slip away quickly.
Without warning. They’re gone.
I went to find my fruit seller lady yesterday. She hasn’t been there all week and they tell me she’ll be back. Yesterday I find out she’s not. Life’s too much. Three daughters, and a grandma to care for. She’s from the countryside and they had hoped for a boy. She’s the one I pleaded with 4 years ago not to have an abortion. Her third precious daughter is their special blessing, she says. She’s now gone to work in a factory. I’m glad I’ve shared with her but I miss her. I wish I could tell her again. I thought I’d have another chance.
The usual exchange dominates most of the first half of the car ride. 3 kids? All yours? You must make tons of money! How much does your husband make? (I am certainly not going to add that I have one more son who’s not with us this morning.) Where are you from? (I brace myself as usually the next half of the drive is about my sucky Chinese and how I should have learned better.) But we don’t go there this morning. Thankful. I don’t mince words. I’m going to ch-rch this morning with my kids. I’m a follower of J-sus. Have you ever heard of J-sus? Time’s running out and I may never see this man again. I share with him a little of my faith. His silence tempts me to be quiet. I believe in Pusa, he protects me. I choose to pr-y. I finish the car ride interceding for this man and his family. I speak to the kids in English, pr-y for this man, for his heart, for his family.
After all, life’s too short.
A sober reminder has brought a new desire to be bolder in expressing my faith. I ran into a former neighbor yesterday morning. She and her husband had been very dear to us in our early years in this apartment complex. We got to know them after Elijah was born and their grand-daughter was born soon after. We had their family over many times; we made jiaozi (dumplings) and spaghetti. (my spaghetti pales in comparison to their jiaozi) Mr. Wang, her husband passed away while we were away. I couldn’t believe it. Mr. Wang’s smile and encouragement has been sweet to us over the years. He’d see me carrying a load of groceries home from the market and he’d tell me what a good mom I was. When I was outside throwing ball with the kids he’d come out with his pruning shears and we’d chat about plants, children, and life. He was tickled over the way my kids enjoyed food, namely, Micah. Micah really enjoyed his 1000 year old egg dipped in dark vinegar the last time we were in their home. We’d shared the g-spel with him and had read some parts of the Book with him. Now he’s gone. I don’t know if he ever professed faith in J-sus. My heart breaks. I wish I had been more faithful . There are words I wish I had shared with him this past year. I thought he’d be around longer. Only in his late 60’s. I thought there would be more opportunities but they slip away quickly.
Without warning. They’re gone.
I went to find my fruit seller lady yesterday. She hasn’t been there all week and they tell me she’ll be back. Yesterday I find out she’s not. Life’s too much. Three daughters, and a grandma to care for. She’s from the countryside and they had hoped for a boy. She’s the one I pleaded with 4 years ago not to have an abortion. Her third precious daughter is their special blessing, she says. She’s now gone to work in a factory. I’m glad I’ve shared with her but I miss her. I wish I could tell her again. I thought I’d have another chance.
What about all the others I could have shared with, but didn’t?
Asking tonight for greater boldness, sensitivity to the HS, grace to be obedient to take every opportunity.
Really, really moved by these words... Jenn. I can be so timid--- but time is short.
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